


Procuring Hermione Granger

by Curly_Kay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, First Dates, Fluff and Smut, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Ministry of Magic Employee Draco Malfoy, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, Mutual Pining, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Hogwarts, Romance, The Burrow (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-22 12:35:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22616269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curly_Kay/pseuds/Curly_Kay
Summary: When an old acquaintance offers Hermione 20,000 galleons for a single strand of her hair, she goes in search of the mysterious buyer and finds herself unwittingly portkeyed into the middle of his flat.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 123
Kudos: 996
Collections: Draco and Hermione





	1. The Portkey

_Dear Hermione,_

_I've recently found myself reminiscing about school and realised that it has been far too long since I have seen my old Gryffindor dormmate. I'm sure you are busy but if you can find a free afternoon then I would love to catch up. Would you be willing to meet me at the Leaky Cauldron for lunch this Tuesday at noon? It would be lovely to hear about what you have been up to since Hogwarts._

_Sincerely,_

_Parvati Patil_

After rereading the message, Hermione Granger carefully folded the note before returning it to her handbag. Her eyes caught on the ticking hand of the clock in the corner of the room; it was five minutes to noon and Parvati should arrive any moment. Hermione had been surprised when the invitation arrived at her desk mixed in with her Ministry mail. It had been years since she had last seen Parvati; their last interaction had been at the anniersary of the Battle of Hogwarts, a somber occasion to remember and mourn the lives lost and changed from the battle.

The newest owner of the Leaky Cauldron, Hannah Abbott, stepped out from behind the bar to embrace Hermione. Hannah had made the bar her own; once dingy and shabby, the Leaky Cauldron was rejuvenated under her management. These days, it was a thriving bar filled with laughter and good conversation—bordering on overcrowded most days. Hermione was thrilled to see her old friend create success in her business.

"Oh, Hermione! I didn't know you were coming in today," Hannah greeted her with a quick kiss on each cheek.

"I wasn't planning on it, actually, but I'm meeting Parvati Patil today for lunch." She replied, glancing at the empty doorway. “It was a bit of a last minute invitation.”

"In that case, let me set the two of you up in the parlour, it'll give you more privacy. I can't believe how busy it has been lately!" Hannah exclaimed, directing Hermione to a room off the main pub floor. It was a cozy room, lined with pale yellow wallpaper with printed white flowers; in the middle of the room was a small round table and two simple place settings.

"I'll get you some steak and kidney pies and butterbeer—on the house—it's so nice to see you! I have to get back to the lunch rush, but we _must_ meet up soon," Hannah bustled out of the room before Hermione had the chance to thank her for the extra accomidations.

Fiddling with the strap on her handbag, Hermione waited in silence and hoped that Parvati would be able to find her in the back room. Several moments later, her lunch companion walked into the room with a wide smile.

"Hermione Granger, I hardly recognised you!" Parvati rushed over to Hermione just as she stood up from her seat.

Parvati ran her hands over Hermione’s hair and shook her head with a grin. “You look _fantastic_! How did you finally tame your curls? Oh! Do you remember the time in fifth year when we tried four bottles of Sleekeazy’s and still couldn’t get the back to stay down? Then we turned Ginny’s hair purple!”

Holding back a laugh, Hermione squeezed her eyes shut in embarrassment. “It’s a meticulous sequence of spells and hair potions—even then, if the weather isn’t right it won’t cooperate.”

"Enough about that. How have you been? It's been ages," Parvati gushed as she took Hermione's hands into her own, gave a squeeze before letting go and taking a seat.

"It has, I can hardly believe it. I had lunch with the Weasleys just last month and it dawned on us that it’s been _five years_ since we left school. It feels like just last month I was nagging Harry and Ron to complete their schoolwork and now they’re Senior Aurors!" Hermione pulled out her chair and joined Parvati at the small table.

Hannah reentered the room, placing two plates of steak and kidney pie with two large mugs of butterbeer onto their table. "Enjoy your lunch, you two," she winked before closing the parlour door behind her.

"I hope you like pie, Hannah insisted we try it," Hermione explained with a slight shrug, looking down at the plate of food in front of her.

"Oh, never mind the pie." Parvati waved a hand to dismissively. "Do tell me what you've been up to since school, I've hardly seen you in the gossip papers—quite a feat as they seem to document everything about Harry and Ron. I saw an article last month about the brand of gloves that Harry purchased at Quality Quidditch Supplies and the next day they were all sold out. I can only imagine what they’d do to get information on you.”

Hermione felt her face heat up under the attention; she pushed her hair out of her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. "Yes, I realized after the war that we had become celebrities of a sort, and I've been staying out of the public eye as much as possible. I rent a flat in Muggle London and usually shop when it is least busy, I have a modified Disillusionment Charm that does wonders. I work at the Ministry, in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

Parvati cocked her head in curiosity, taking a bite of her pie. "What do you do there?"

"It's mostly paper-pushing at this point, but I have plans on driving new legislation for house elves, werewolves, centaurs, and so many others. You wouldn't believe the lack of legal protection available for some sentient creatures! I have a ten-year plan," Hermione insisted, raising her Butterbeer and stopping just before it reached her lips to clarify. "And I'm only a few years into it."

Parvati nodded along, pausing to dab at her lips with her serviette.

"Honestly, I’m not here to talk about me. I can’t believe how we haven’t run into each other in the past few years. What have you been doing for work? I know you always loved divination, are you a Professor? Or a seer?" Hermione asked, digging her fork into the pie, and taking another bite.

"I am…a procurer of sorts," Parvati stated vaguely, taking a long sip of her butterbeer.

Hermione frowned; her brow scrunched in confusion. "Do you obtain goods for your career?"

"Yes, I do. I have wealthy clientele who have particular needs or requests for which they'd need discretion. That is where I come in," she gestured noncommittally.

"Are you saying you're a black-market dealer?" Hermione asked, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

Parvati laughed boisterously as if Hermione had told a joke. “Oh no! Nothing that I do is illegal—I mean, it is perhaps a bit grey. They don't pay me to ask questions."

Setting down her fork, Hermione looked at Parvati carefully. "Parvati, why did you ask me to meet you for lunch today?"

"You always were a clever one, weren't you?" Parvati shook her head fondly at Hermione. "I am here to offer you a trade."

"A trade?" Hermione enquired warily, "What sort of trade?"

"You don't have to look so nervous, Hermione, I'm not going to bite." Parvati chuckled to herself, her painted nails tapped against the wood of the table. "I have a buyer—extremely elusive—and he is interested in you. Specifically, he would like to obtain a strand of your hair."

Hermione instinctively reached up a hand to touch her curls.

"He has never requested my services before, and I am quite eager to secure him as a client. In exchange for your hair I am willing to offer you fifty percent of his fees, approximately 20,000 galleons."

Unable to stop the gasp that came from her mouth, Hermione raised her hand over her mouth in shock. “Someone is paying you twice the average Ministry worker's yearly salary just for a strand of my hair?!”

Parvati nodded, giving her a knowing look. "As I said, he's an _extremely_ motivated buyer. I have been known to procure something like this using less…ethical means but considering our history I wanted to propose a deal. Your hair for half the sale."

Appalled by the offer, Hermione leaned against the back of the seat, her head spinning. "Parvati, no! I can't believe you expected me to agree to that offer. Yes, that is an insane amount of money and yes, I could always use more funding for my work projects, but I would never resort to _selling myself_."

"Don't be dramatic," Parvati rolled her eyes, before inspecting her nails. “It's not selling yourself. Anyone could have found a stray hair from you off the street, it's the same thing except you get paid."

"No." Hermione stood up abruptly, her chair scraped against the bottom of the floor. "Absolutely not. I'm sorry, Parvati, but who knows what they would do with my hair? I can't do this, I won't."

Parvati withdrew a card from her robe pocket. "I had assumed this would be your gut reaction, but please, do consider it." She placed the card on the table in front of Hermione with a slight smirk. "To be fair, I don't think you would mind the buyer."

After Parvati let herself out, Hermione sat for a moment in a stupor. A moment later, she inspected the card and was perplexed to see that it was blank on both sides. Drawing out her wand, she tapped it once and the address of an office appeared. She recognised the street name and location, it was just off Diagon Alley.

Hermione paced the empty parlour, growing more agitated by the minute. How dare Parvati come to her with a request like that? What kind of person had Parvati become? What kind of person did she think Hermione was? No, Hermione was not going to keep this card. In fact, it frustrated her beyond belief that Parvati would think she kept the card, as if she would actually consider this offer.

Clutching the card so tightly in her fist that she almost crushed it, she was determined to return it to Parvati and give Parvati a piece of her mind. _Of all the improper propositions_ , she fumed, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. Retrieving a couple galleons from her handbag, she placed them in the center of the table for Hannah as a thank you for the private room and snuck out the back of the Leaky Cauldron.

Reading the address again, Hermione navigated down the alleyways of Diagon Alley, searching for Parvati's office. She stopped in front of an unmarked building which was so small, in fact, that it was nearly the size of the parlour they had just left. After a quick peek inside, she opened the door and let herself in. The office was empty, Parvati must have stopped somewhere else after their lunch.

Hermione could not resist; she began to snoop around the room for clues. " _Revelio_!" She gave an expectant wave of her wand, but nothing appeared. Glancing back over her shoulder, she began tapping on the floorboards and walls for a hollow space. Just below the front leg of the desk was a loose floorboard, Hermione shifted the desk over and pried it open.

It was filled with a thick container stuffed with notes; she flipped through the pile until she spotted her name. Pulling out the envelope she scanned through the document; it only had the details Parvati had mentioned in the meeting. A request for Hermione Granger's hair, payment of 40,000 galleons. The buyer's name was a code word, Typhoeus. Hermione paused on the Greek word, trying to remember where she had seen it before.

Inside the envelope was a gum wrapper, Hermione pulled it out of the envelope and inspected it closer. Suddenly, there was a familiar tugging at her navel and the room began to spin. She dropped the papers just as the Portkey swept her away.

Hermione stumbled to find her footing, ever since the Quidditch World Cup she had hated Portkeys. They always made her dizzy. Hermione bent over breathing deeply through her nose and out of her mouth. Where was she? She stood up straight, inspecting the room around her.

She was in a flat—that much was obvious. It was sizeable and minimally decorated; the entire area had dark hardwood floor, in the center was a set of white sofas with a marble coffee table between them. The wall in front of her was actually a series of floor to ceiling windows, the flat overlooked London. There was a full kitchen with matching countertop, black barstools and a variety of artwork on the walls.

Reaching her hand into the pocket of her skirt, she held her wand in preparation of a fight. No matter how many years it had been since the war, there were some habits she couldn’t break. Her heart raced as she looked around for an exit. It was obvious that she had taken Parvati’s Portkey which would have been used to deliver her hair. The flat looked like the home of someone who could afford to drop 40,000 Galleons on a strand of hair. The art on the walls gave no indication of who owned the flat, there were no personal pictures up.

The sound of footsteps made her jump.

"You're early," the voice drawled.

Hermione's mouth fell open as she recognized the low voice.

Typhoeus— _dragon._

Whirling around, she came face to face with Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy worked at the Ministry as a consultant with Malfoy Industries. Though Hermione hadn’t worked with him personally as their areas of expertise did not overlap, she saw him around the office. Now that she thought more about it, they did seem to run into each other more frequently than could be coincidental. They worked in different departments on different floors and she still saw him nearly every week.

Unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt, Draco rolled up the sleeves and exposed his forearms. Hermione's eyes took him in, he was wearing a button-up with the top buttons undone and dark trousers that hugged his thighs in a delicious way. His hair was tussled from a long day of work, a hint of 5 o'clock shadow grazed his cheeks and jawline. She felt heat rise to her cheeks, was this what Draco Malfoy looked like outside of work?

"You were expecting me?" She squeaked out, her voice higher than normal; she had just been standing in his living room, gawking at him in silence.

"Not for several hours, but no matter, I just finished up for the night. A drink, perhaps? I can open a bottle of Ogden's Finest." Without waiting for her response, he gestured for her to follow him as he walked to the adjacent room.

For a moment, Hermione forgot how to move her legs, her eyes fixed on his arse as he walked away from her. Despite seeing him in passing at work, they had not spoken longer than a few polite sentences in years. Why was he so nonchalant about her standing in his flat? Perhaps he expected her to deliver her own hair to him? On that note, _why_ did he want her hair? What possible use could he have with it?

As her mind caught up with her, she followed behind him into an office. This room had actual walls instead of windows, it was minimally decorated and clean. The only mess in the room was the desk which was cluttered with documents. Next to the desk was a large houseplant, a pair of chairs with a small table and vase of flowers. Again, Hermione noticed a lack of personal photos in the room.

Draco drew out two glass tumblers from a cabinet and poured a serving of Firewhisky into each glass. Offering a glass to Hermione—who gratefully accepted—he took a sip and she took a gulp, her face contorting at the taste as the burn trailed down her throat.

He raised his eyebrows, looking unimpressed as she coughed. "It's more of a sipping drink.”

Heat compounded in her already flushed cheeks from his words. She tried to muster the courage to ask him why she was there. How does one ask a childhood enemy turned casual coworker why they want to purchase hair?

His grey eyes fell from her face to her outfit. "What are you wearing?" he asked, as if noticing her for the first time.

She rocked back onto her heels, looking down at herself with a frown. It was a typical outfit for her as she had gone from work to lunch with Parvati. This morning she had selected a green button-up blouse and grey skirt, paired with sensible grey flats.

"What's wrong with my outfit?" she asked with offense, her skirt had pockets—pockets!

"Never mind." He took another drag of Firewhisky, his eyes lingering on her skirt. "It won’t matter in a few minutes."

What did that mean?

Her brain stopped working as he slowly approached her, step by step, stalking toward her like a predator in a hunt. When he was just a step away, Hermione felt dizzy and breathless as the air filled with tense anticipation. A hand reached up to her face, brushing back that stubborn piece of hair back behind her hair.

"Beautiful," he murmured softly, lifting her chin with his thumb as she looked up at him with wide eyes, words lost in her throat.

Parvati's comment drifted back into her mind, ' _to be fair, I don't think you would mind the buyer'_ Hermione's breath caught under his gaze. She thought back to those nights in her four-poster bed, curtains drawn; the soft pants as her hand teased under her knickers, imagining Malfoy’s fingers instead of her own.

"You think…you think I'm beautiful?" the words escaped her lips before she could stop herself.

Heated eyes traced her face before he cocked his head at her question. "Yes. Always."

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, her mouth felt dry as she wondered if he would kiss her—or if she would kiss him. He was so close. If she just leaned forward their lips would touch.

Worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, she watched his eyes catch on her lips.

"Oh Granger," his voice was gravelly and rumbled in his chest. "What am I going to do with you when you look like that?"

She swallowed.

Brushing his thumb across her jawline, she shivered from his touch as he tilted her head up to him. Hermione opened her mouth to say something—anything—but the words died in her chest as he captured her lips with his. His lips were soft and firm against hers, igniting a fire inside her. He tasted like Firewhisky and desire, and Hermione wanted to drown in him.

Leaning into the kiss, she lost herself as he expertly parted her lips with his tongue, deepening the kiss and worshiping her lips. Exhaling a shaky breath, she slipped her hands in his hair and tugged, pulling him flush against her.

It had been so long; she was not one for one-night stands and she had not gone past a first date in over a year. His strong hands grasped her waist for a beat before they slipped under her blouse, his touch burned her skin and left her wanting more.

“Do you feel how much I need you?” he murmured into her neck, pressing his thick bulge against her stomach as he trailed kisses from her neck to her collarbone, sucking and biting at the heated flesh.

She heard a hum of confirmation and it took a moment to recognise it came from her.

“And you, Granger, do you want me?” He asked, his hand drifting down under the elastic of her skirt and knickers, firmly squeezing her arse. She whimpered, bucking her hips against him in response. Tilting his head back, he let out a low sound of approval, “Fuck, Granger, this arse of yours is going to kill me.”

Draco’s fingers dug greedily into the flesh of her cheeks before rotating to the front, stroking her core from over her knickers. Keening, she rotated her hips and tried to grind herself into his touch.

He chuckled darkly. “Do you want me, Granger?” he slipped a finger under the damp fabric, pressing the pad of his finger against her clit, her eyelids fluttered at his touch. His lips pressed against her ear as he whispered, “Because I want you.”

“Please.”

Before she even finished saying the word, he plunged a finger into her cunt and released a shuddered breath. “Oh, fuck, you’re so ready for me.”

This was happening, she decided with her last coherent thought. After years of late nights at the Ministry and failed date after failed date, she deserved to be seduced by a sexy bachelor. Her mind fell blank as he curled his finger and found that spot that made her vision go white.

Studying her reactions, he added a second finger and thrust into her again and again, she threw her head back, rocking against his touch and riding his fingers with reckless abandon. He circled her clit, dipping his fingers into her and withdrawing, his eyes never left her face. Her thighs shook around his hand and he drew small breathy noises out of her.

“Do you know how many nights I dreamed of this, Granger?” his husky voice murmured into her ear, sending a shiver of delight down her spine. “I want to feel you come on my fingers, then I want you to come on my cock while I fuck you until you forget everything but my name. I want to see the way you come undone so you know that no one can do that to you like I can.”

“Malfoy,” she moaned between gasps, her whole body sang from his touch.

He growled low at the use of his name and his hand withdrew from her core; she whimpered at the loss of contact, but her protest was quickly cut off when he surprised her by picking her up. Pushing the papers off his desk, he set her down on top, her back pressing against the wood.

“I wasn’t going to—I just can’t stop now that you’re here, not when you look so damn perfect.” His eyes squeezed shut as if painful before they opened again, watching her with a look of hunger. “It’s like the old days at school, isn’t it, Granger? Only this time I don’t have to just imagine what you’d look like writhing on my desk under me.”

Before she could ask any follow up questions, he carefully removed her flats before trailing his hands up her skirt and pulling her knickers down and off. He slipped them in his pocket with a wink before lifting her leg, placing heated kisses from her calf all the way up to her inner thigh.

“Malfoy, what are you—” she exhaled sharply, as he buried his head between her legs, his hands gripped her hips possessively as he dragged his tongue up her slit. “Oh my god!” Her back arched away from the desk; her chest rising and falling with her heaved breaths. Her hips shifted and chased after his tongue, desperate for more of him.

“Come on, Granger,” he encouraged. “I know you’re close, you have that look you get when you’ve solved a particularly difficult problem in class. Oh fuck, you look so perfect.”

She heard the smirk in his voice but any retort died on her lips as he rubbed _that_ spot again, bringing her to the edge as he pumped his fingers in and out of her while he sucked her sensitive nub. He held her thighs open as they quivered around his head. Her eyes rolled back as she clenched around him, waves of pleasure rolling through her body as she came. He continued to flick his tongue against her, riding out the waves as she spasmed with aftershocks.

Her head hit the desk as her body slacked in exhaustion.

“Oh my god,” she repeated, blinking slowly.

Slipping one hand under her knees and the other around her arms, Draco lifted her effortlessly and carried her out of the office. Looking up at him with a question, his eyes were filled with need as he rasped, “Bedroom.”

She nodded quickly in agreement.

The next room was a massive suite that mirrored the size of the main living space. He placed her carefully on a bed wide enough to fit several people and she sunk into the soft bedding. Eyeing her blouse, he began to undo each button, kissing his way down her chest. When he reached the last button, he tugged at it and dropped it to the floor.

Her heart hammered in her chest as she laid in front of him, fully exposed while he was still dressed. His hair was messy from her fingers tangling in it, his lips swollen and red from her kisses. The sight of Draco Malfoy with his walls down, his eyes filled with hunger for her, caused heat to pool in her abdomen. He was looking at her like he wanted to worship her body for hours and fuck, she would let him. 

During their school years, she often fantasized how he would look under his Quidditch robes, showering after practice. Never had she guessed she would have the chance to see it. Mimicking his motions, Hermione unbuttoned one button with a kiss, then a second, then she impatiently ripped all the remaining buttons as she tore his shirt off him. The buttons clattered against the wooden floor.

“Gods that was fun. I wish I had done that before.”

Looking amused, he gave her a questioning look.

“Small confession, I used to wonder what you would have done if I came up to you in an abandoned corner of the library and tried that move,” she admitted with a half-smile.

Draco stilled in disbelief before he asked. “Then what?”

“Then you’d pick me up and pin me against the bookcase, rip my knickers and take me right there. You’d tell me to be quiet so we wouldn’t get caught, but I couldn’t help myself when you were inside me.”

A low exhale left his lips.

“You’re not the only one who had dreams late at night with the curtains pulled shut around their bed,” she teased, watching his expression shift as she unbuckled his belt and pushed his trousers down and off him.

His jaw clenched in a bid for control as his eyes darkened further.

Hermione continued, emboldened by his response to her words, “I used to wait until everyone was asleep, and I’d silence my bed.” She grinned as he licked his lips. “I’d touch myself and pretend it was you between my legs.”

Kneeling down, she was now eye level with his bulge; she rubbed her thighs together impatiently, desperate for friction. He was larger than any partner she had before, and she wanted him until it hurt. ‘ _until she forgot everything but his name.’_ Pulling off his trunks, she watched his hard cock spring free of its confines.

This time it was Hermione who licked her lips. Even though he was large, she figured that she could fit most of him in her mouth.

He swallowed hard, recognizing her intention. “Fuck. You don’t have to—”

“I want to…I want to taste you,” she admitted, eyeing his straining cock.

Before he could answer, she wrapped her hand around the base before giving his head a tentative flick of her tongue. Licking the underside of his cock, she drank in the sounds of his quickening breath. He let out a low hiss as she wrapped her lips around him and sank down. His pupils were blown out with desire as he watched her with lidded gaze, his eyes fixed on her lips as she bobbed on his cock.

“Gods,” he growled. “You look so pretty on your knees for me.”

A muffled moan was her reply and his eyes fluttered at the vibration.

Hermione dragged her tongue up the length of him before taking as much of him into her mouth as she could fit without gagging. She dipped lower and felt him hit the back of her throat, pulling back, she swirled her tongue around the swollen head.

His jaw clenched and his breathing grew shallow.

Trying to maintain control, he tilted his hips up towards her, appearing to fight off the urge to thrust into her mouth. Winding his fingers into her curls, a groan slipped out. Encouraged by his sounds, she relaxed her throat and took him in deeper.

Suddenly, he pulled out, panting softly. “Granger…if you keep this up, I won’t last…” she looked up at him making eye contact as she lowered herself back down, taking as much of him as she could.

He moaned, the sound hung heavy in the air, “Fuck, oh Granger. You take my cock so good, oh—” His hips shook under her, his hands tightened their grip in her hair.

His breath grew ragged as his hips moved in shallow thrusts into her mouth as he gave in to the sensation and his control slipped. “I’m…” his eyes rolled back in his head as his abdomen tensed, he poured into her mouth. She swallowed just as he pulled her up to him, kissing her passionately.

“Those lips of yours are going to kill me,” he muttered, sucking her bottom lip between his teeth. “Every week at work, sucking your quills, biting that lip, and now, watching my cock disappear between your lips.”

Parting her thighs with his knee, he slotted himself between her legs. Dipping his head, he laid a single kiss on the swell of her breast, his tongue circling her peak and flicking it with his tongue. Her nipples stiffened against the chill of the air. Massaging both breasts with his hands, he alternated between them with his mouth.

Arching up against him, she mumbled incoherently, whimpering softly.

“You make the most delicious noises, Granger,” he continued his ministrations, nipping and sucking her breasts while she writhed beneath him.

His hands moved down to her waist and he lined himself up at her entrance, coating himself with her arousal, teasing her as he rocked his hips forward, barely entering her. She caught a smirk on his lips as she groaned impatiently and shifted closer to him. As he inched in further, she felt herself stretch around his cock until she felt impossibly full.

Lifting her leg to rest on his shoulder, he slid back into her and bottomed out from the angle; a moan escaped his lips as he filled her completely. He waited for one excruciatingly long moment before he pulled out, his cock dragging along her walls. Just when she was about to complain, he pushed back into her to the hilt.

Keening beneath him, she met each pump of his cock with a lift of her hips as continued at a delicious pace. She lowered her leg and his hips snapped against her as he stretched and filled her again and again. Her hands bunched the sheets around her; Draco’s hands grabbed hers, interlacing their fingers as he pinned her hands above her head.

He groaned in her ear, his face buried in her neck and hair. Hermione hooked her ankles around his hips, anchoring herself as she ground against him, matching his thrusts. He turned her head to him, looking her in the eyes with a possessive fire.

“I want to watch you when you come on my cock,” he muttered under his breath, increasing his tempo, reaching one hand down and rubbing circles into her swollen clit, the other hand still pinning her arm up. “I never want to forget this moment, the way you look—oh fuck, the way you feel.”

She arched, feeling her muscles flutter with tension as she grabbed at his shoulders, digging her nails into his back. His hips snapped erratically against her, as she clenched around him, pulling him closer and closer. She fell over the ledge, looking into his eyes as she let go, her muscles twitching in perfect agony around him. He moaned something against her neck, driving into her with a relentless pace.

“Malfoy, you feel _amazing._ Don’t stop,” she found herself begging.

Hermione’s body twitched beneath him, riding the waves of her pleasure, he looked overtaken by the feeling of her tightening around him. His hands moved to grip her hips while his body tensed. He tipped his head back, finishing with a shuddered breath as he pulsed inside her.

Collapsing next to her, he leaned over and kissed her lazily, stroking her cheek with his hand.

“That was so much better than I had ever imagined, and you had a decade of fantasies to live up to.” She gave a small chuckle and scrunched her nose as she tried to catch her breath, feeling completely sated.

Draco looked down at her lips and back up to her face. “I can’t believe how much you act like her,” he marveled, tracing a finger across her freckles.

Hermione looked at him curiously, an unsettled feeling in her stomach. “Like who?”

“Hermione Granger,” he stated, his tone matter of fact.

White noise filled her ears as his words rang in her head.

“But…I _am_ Hermione Granger,” she said, her eyes growing wide.

“You’re really committed to the part,” he admired with a shrug. “It’s commendable, for sure.”

Sitting up abruptly, she looked at him in confusion, the pit in her chest doubled. “Wait. Who you do think I am?” She asked, her heart pounding wildly in her chest as she pulled the blanket up to cover herself.

Draco looked baffled; the sight would have made her laugh under different circumstances. “I don’t know? Parvati said she would send one of her girls after her lunch with Grang…” the word died on his lips as his mouth fell open. “Shit.”

Hermione stared back at him, unable to form words.

“Are you telling me you’re not Parvati’s girl?” Draco’s voice was dangerously low, his eyes filled with pure panic.

“We…we had lunch and then I told her I wasn’t giving up my hair and she left a card and I tried to return it and then it Portkeyed me here,” Hermione rambled, pulling the blanket tighter around her. “You called me Granger,” she argued. “You didn’t know it was me?”

“It was part of the experience,” he answered frantically. “Oh fuck. Fuck!” he ran his hands over his face.

He turned to her, looking serious, “Everything you said—everything you did—it was all real? With me?”

Her face flushed, replaying everything she had said in the past hour in her head.

He pulled her to him, kissing her like she was air and he was a drowning man.

“How long?” he rasped out, holding her face between his hands.

“Um…” her eyes looked back and forth between his as she considered the question. “Fifth year, I think? It’s hard to recall, those years were a blur.”

He looked distraught, his eyes clenched shut. “You’re telling me—Since _fifth year_? Fuck, Granger, it’s been since fourth for me.”

Her stomach twisted delightfully at his words. “Oh my god.”

“I can’t believe this,” he said, shaking his head as his eyes darted back and forth, taking in her words. “I never thought…I’ve been trying to figure out how to talk to you for years. I’ve been arranging all sorts of meetings on level four just to run into you. I donated thousands of Galleons to your department hoping you would talk to me. If I had known,” he looked horrified. “Bloody hell, I’m so sorry Granger.”

“This is what you wanted to do with my hair? Polyjuice some girl and pretend to fuck me?” Hermione hissed, climbing out of the bed and taking his blanket with her.

“I thought…oh, Merlin…I’ve wanted you for _years_ , Granger, I can’t even get myself to go on a second date because they weren’t you. I see you every day at work and hate myself because I knew I’d never be good enough for you. Even if I got you to agree to a date, I knew I’d fuck it all up like I do everything else. I’ve been trying to date but they’re all a disaster. I always came back to Blaise saying, ‘ _her hair was all wrong—it was much too boring and straight’_ , ‘ _can you believe this one didn’t know about Hogwarts: A History?_ ’, ‘ _that one didn’t even challenge me when we disagreed, she just changed her opinion to suit mine_ ’.”

Hermione fought the urge to smile at his retelling, trying to focus on the fact that she should be angry with him.

His voice grew panicked as he tried to explain, “Then Blaise…Blaise told me about Parvati’s service, he said I could get you out of my system if I had you just once and then I could move on. It was dumb, it was so dumb, I don’t know why I ever thought it would work.”

“What do you mean? Didn’t you get what you wanted?” she asked quietly, looking away from him.

“No.” Draco massaged his temples in frustration. “Because what I want is _you_ , Granger. All of you. Not some fake Polyjuiced you. I want to wake up next to you and your messy curls each morning; I want to fix your tea just right because only I know how you like it. I want to stay up all night debating ideas with you, I want to kiss that spot on your neck that I know makes your toes curl.” His voice rumbled low, sending a shiver down her spine.

“It was never going to be enough.” He murmured, “not without having all of you.”

She subconsciously stepped closer to him; her bare feet cold against the floor.

“I never…I never thought you would want me.” He looked away, running a hand through his messy hair. “If I had known…Merlin.” He shook his head slowly, looking up at her, his eyes sincere. “I’d give you _anything_.”

A beat of silence swept over the room.

“Would you stay?” He asked, his voice more vulnerable than she had ever heard. “Please stay,” he begged. “I don’t think I could stand it if you left.”

Pausing, Hermione considered his words watching as he held his breath, waiting for her answer.

Her hands dropped the blanket, and his eyes fell back onto her naked body before going back up to her face. “I’ll stay,” she whispered, crawling back into bed with him. “You could have just asked me to tea, you know. I would’ve been interested.”

He pulled her into his arms, stroking her hair and kissing her temple. “Granger, if you just give me a chance, I’ll give you the world, anything you want—just say the word.”

She turned to him, staring into his stormy grey eyes. “Let’s just start with you. I just want you.”

“You have me,” he muttered against her lips, kissing her breathless.

“What now?”

“What are you doing tomorrow? I want to bring you on a proper date, I know of a small bookstore out of the way where we can have lunch. We can buy all the books you want and debate each one; we can drink mediocre tea and at the end of the date, I’ll walk you home.”

Giving him a coy smile, she laced her fingers with his. “I’d love that.”

* * *

“I have to say, Blaise, of all the odd requests you’ve had for me over the years this one was by far the oddest.” Parvati sighed, inspecting her nails.

“But did it work?” Blaise asked, leaning closer to Parvati who was sitting across from him, sipping her tea.

“Obviously,” Parvati smiled craftily. “I’m the best in my field for a reason. You don’t live with a girl for seven years without learning a thing or two about her. Nothing would frustrate Hermione Granger more than having someone believe she would consider selling part of herself for financial gain. She has her ‘moral principles’, which makes her boringly predictable. She activated the Portkey in my office directly after we had lunch.”

Blaise’s eyes widened in intrigue. “And?”

“That was four hours ago,” Parvati smirked at her accomplice. “And she’s still there.”


	2. Mathilda's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I’m supposed to be finishing up another chapter of my work in progress and instead I’m here writing the second half of this story because your reviews were so wonderful that I couldn’t focus until I wrote this down. I hope you enjoy reading part 2, I’d love to read your thoughts.
> 
> I swear I could make this an entire multi-chapter story, but I have several stories backlogged already and a work in progress halfway complete so hopefully you don’t mind that it’s only going to be two chapters total 😊 thanks for reading!

Hermione's feet faltered when she spotted the sign ahead, **Mathilda's Tea Room & Bookshop**, she chewed on her lip, a pit growing in her stomach. She was on her way to her first date with Draco Malfoy, and she could not remember the last time that she felt so nervous for a date. Hermione smoothed her dress down. After an embarrassingly long time spent digging in her closet, she ended up selecting a baby blue sundress and pair of wedges for their date.

It was nonsensical, she chided herself, they slept together not 24 hours ago but _this_ she was nervous for? Yes. _This_ made her feel vulnerable, exposed even, in a way that even lying naked in his bed had not. She did not know where _this_ was going and that scared her.

She peered through the dingy glass, spotting a head of platinum blond hair at a table towards the back of the tearoom. Taking a steadying breath, Hermione pushed open the door and navigated to Draco's table. The room was small, only holding 6 tables; it was empty except for Draco and a lone worker who was preparing food behind the counter.

Heart hammering in her chest, she admired him from a distance; he was wearing a white fitted button-up shirt that showed off the definition in his arms and a pair of navy-blue trousers. Tracing the grain of the round table with his fingertip, Draco must have spotted her in his peripheral because he looked up at her and smiled—her pulse leapt in response.

Draco stood up abruptly, bumping into the table, the tea set rattled from the movement. Placing his hands on the tabletop, he settled it and grimaced.

"I wasn't sure you'd come," he admitted, walking around the table to greet her, running his hand through his hair. "I…brought you some flowers, but I wasn't sure what kind you like so I bought a bit of everything." Draco picked up a bouquet, turning it over in his hands.

It was obscenely large, filled with roses, lilies, orchids, peonies, tulips, and many other breeds of flower—some Hermione did not even recognise.

She bit back a smile. "Sunflowers," she offered. "My favorite flowers are sunflowers."

His eyes widened with the new information and he nodded, pulling out a single sunflower from the bouquet and handing it to her, "For my lovely date."

Hermione accepted the sunflower, twirling the stem in her hands and carefully sniffing the flower.

Pureblood manners kicking in, he stepped behind her and pulled out her chair, helping as she took a seat at their table. The Draco in front of her was a completely different Draco than she had seen yesterday. Yesterday Draco had been suave and commanding, overwhelming her senses, today Draco seemed flustered and almost shy.

She decided that she quite liked both Dracos.

"Keep your face to the sunshine and you cannot see the shadows. It's what the sunflowers do." Hermione quoted, still holding her flower up to her nose before setting it down on the table in front of her.

"Who said that?" Draco inquired, eyeing the sunflower.

"A Muggle named Helen Keller," Hermione answered matter-of-factly. "When she was a child, she contracted an illness that left her deaf and blind. She's rather famous in the Muggle world, she was an author and activist."

With a raise of his brow, he gave her a half grin. "Still swotty as ever, aren't you Granger?"

Frowning, she felt her forehead crease as she glared at him.

"I'm apparently really into swotty, if you weren't aware," he smirked, and her stomach flipped. "Have any books on Ms. Keller that I can read?"

Hermione sat up straighter, her cheeks heating under his gaze. "I do, actually, they are my mum's, but I can lend you a few if you want."

"I would like that, if she can part with them for a few days." Draco casually stirred a spoonful of honey into his tea.

Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, she looked up from his spoon and noticed Draco's eyes drift down to her lips; her breath grew shallow, recalling his words from the day before ' _every week at work, sucking your quills, biting that lip, and now, watching my cock disappear between your lips._ ' Hermione licked her lips subconsciously, watching his eyes linger for a moment before skating back up to her eyes.

It might have been the light, but she could’ve sworn his cheeks were tinted with a bit of colour.

"Welcome!" an excited voice exclaimed, breaking Hermione from her thoughts. "I'm Mathilda, the owner, we are so excited to have you join us today for tea and lunch!"

Hermione looked around the café again; they were the only patrons at lunch hour?

"It's not often we have a couple rent out the entire tearoom—how romantic!" Mathilda winked at Hermione who looked back at Draco in surprise.

Yes, he was definitely growing pink in the face.

"I have a sample platter here; I'll stop by to refill your tea and there is a stasis charm on it so it will never grow cold. Enjoy!" she bustled away, leaving a three-tier tray of sandwiches, cakes, pastries, scones, and jam on their table.

Hermione fought back a smile. "Did you honestly rent out the entire shop for our date today?"

Draco scowled over at Mathilda who was humming in the corner as she worked on preparing more sandwiches.

"I just thought…I don't know, you might not want to be seen out with me." He avoided her stare, fiddling with his cup. "I know it's been years since the war but there are people who will always think of me as a death eater. I…I didn't want you to have to deal with that today. I mean, if I screw this up—which I still might—I'd rather it not start out with the headline, **Death Eater Seduces Golden Girl War Hero**."

"Don't call yourself that." She frowned, resisting the urge to take his hand. "That's not fair," she argued. "You were acquitted; not to mention, _a child_ during the war. All of us were."

"If only everyone were as understanding as you. There are those who will never believe that there is any good in me. They don't realize that some of us never had a choice," he chuckled humorlessly. "I had my side in the war before I was ever born."

Giving in, Hermione reached across the table, taking his hand in hers. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and warmth filled her chest from the simple act.

"You were doing the same as the rest of us, trying to survive. You shouldn't talk down about yourself, it's untrue. You think I haven't noticed you at work over the years? You've done more than your share of reparations.” She looked between his eyes, the sadness in them broke her heart.

“It’s not enough—"

Shaking her head, she continued, “The Ministry is swarming with gossip and I’ve heard about the donations you made that were intended to be completely anonymous. You’ve helped thousands of people with your contributions. The orphanage has enough funding for a decade because of you. Even when the world abandoned you, you turned around and helped the very people who scorn you. Make no mistake of it, you are a good man.”

"Granger…" he swallowed thickly, gently rubbing his thumb across her knuckles.

"No more of this," she stated firmly. "I am not _ashamed_ to be on a date with you, I hope you know that. There will be no more of this nonsense. If anyone has something to say, I'll be right there to tell them exactly how they're wrong—you know how much I enjoy doing that."

The ghost of a smile crossed his face before he conceded with a nod.

"Tell me about Malfoy Industries, about your business with the Ministry," Hermione prompted, selecting a cucumber sandwich and biting into it.

"Well, after father was sentenced to life in Azkaban, I had to take over the family business. I was 17 and scared shiteless, I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. Luckily, I had full control over the company and replaced all of father's board members with people I trusted on the first day. It's been a challenge, I've made mistakes, and I've learned a great deal along the way; overall, I'm proud of how its grown and that I have a platform to make a difference.”

He speared jam on his knife, spreading it over his scone. "Securing the Ministry contract was our big break back into Wizarding society. I believe it has to do with Potter's testimony at my family's trial that kept us in good enough graces with the Ministry to accept our work," Draco admitted, shrugging slightly.

“Harry was a wreck before your trial, he was worried that you would end up with life in Azkaban if he hadn’t testified.”

Draco stilled, absorbing her confession. “I probably would have, I sent him a letter—”

“—he told me.” She took a bite of a miniature cake, wiping off frosting from her lip with her thumb. “He was happy to hear from you.”

"What about you? I'd have thought you'd be Minister for Magic by now."

She laughed dryly, "Minister for Magic? You realize I'm just a paper-pusher in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, right? I started in the department because I wanted to make a difference, but I quickly found out the current laws make that next to impossible. Though I do aspire to become a Deputy Head in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I've found that’s where I could influence the laws."

"You'll do great things, Granger, I've never once doubted that. You shouldn't limit yourself, I overheard O'Neal saying just the other day that a position was opening in the DMLE. You should put your name into the running." He encouraged.

Pausing, she considered his words and the corner of her mouth pulled up. "I think I just might."

Draco looked pleased, selecting a strawberry cake from the top tier of the stand.

"So, Granger, what do you think your mates would say if they knew you were on a date with me?" Draco asked, popping the cake into his mouth.

Tilting her head, she pondered his question. "Candidly speaking, I'm not sure. I'd like to think they would trust my judgement. Ginny would be thrilled; I can't tell you the frequency in which she talked about your arse in Quidditch pants during school, but you would be appalled."

Having inhaled part of his tea, Draco coughed and hit his chest. "You're kidding!"

"She was not the only one."

His eyes widened in intrigue. "Go on," he encouraged with a tilt of his head.

She laughed at his reaction. "I'll spill my secrets another day, Draco. What about your mates? Think they'd approve?"

"Well, funny you should mention it. I had a nice long chat with Blaise last night after you left my flat," Draco started, pouring more tea into his cup.

"Blaise Zabini?" Hermione asked. "What has he been up to since Hogwarts?"

"Apparently, setting up his best mate with his dream girl." Draco quipped before freezing as realisation dawned on Hermione's face. "Not just by Blaise, it was Parvati as well."

"No, what?” she gasped. “So, it wasn't some freak accident that I was Portkeyed into your flat?"

His brows disappeared behind his fringe. "Rumour has it that you're famous for meddling. She set the Portkey up in her office specifically for you."

Raising a hand to her chest in offense, she shook her head. " _Me_? Meddle?" she paused for a moment, chewing on the inside of her lip. "Okay _maybe_ , but you're telling me that they set the whole thing up? Why? To what end?"

"Blaise decided to play matchmaker and thought the element of surprise would throw us off—his quote not mine—'our usual self-destructive dating habits' and actually spend time together."

"I mean, it did kind of work. We've worked in the same office building for what, three years now? Seen each other at least once a week during that time in passing. We've both fancied each other for nearly a decade, and it took yesterday to get us to really talk." Hermione reasoned aloud. "Perhaps it wasn't the worst idea?"

"Please do me a favour and don't tell Blaise that, he will never let us live it down. He was so smug last night." Draco rubbed his forehead as if he had a headache.

She took a long sip of her tea before making a face. Hermione leaned in closer to Draco, whispering, "You weren't kidding about the tea."

"I promised you mediocre tea and I've delivered on that promise; you'll find that I'm a man of my word," he teased.

Covering her laugh with a cough, she glanced over her shoulder at Mathilda just as she stepped into the back room.

"So, Draco," she started, stirring milk into her tea. "Since fourth year?"

Pursing his lips, he waited a beat before nodding in confirmation. "Since fourth year."

"And you, Granger." He smirked and she wanted to kiss it off his face. "Since fifth year?"

Tapping a finger to her cheek in faux contemplation, she replied, "I believe so, though it's difficult to place, it's been so long. Plus, it's not as though I ever entertained the idea of actually being with you. You were more of a fantasy."

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Do tell me more about this fantasy, Granger."

Swatting at him playfully, she teased, "Let's see if you get a second date first. I honestly thought you couldn't stand me back then; I'm astonished to hear that you actually fancied me."

His face twisted in shame. "I'm sorry about that, I truly am. I was terrified out of my wits and it felt like I didn't have a choice in anything; I spent so many years acting out. Fancying you would've probably had me disowned at 15, not that that's an excuse. I was a complete prat, I thought if I only showed you the worst of me that you would hate me and not even be an option, and I could…" his voice trailed off, his eyes focused in the space over her shoulder.

“It’s okay, Draco.” She reached her hand back over the table to him.

"Thank you for giving me a chance, Granger." He pulled her hand up to his lips, kissing it softly. "I hope you'll give me more chances after today."

Her stomach flipped at the feeling of his lips. "I hope you'll do the same for me. Now, we haven't touched the food in a while and I feel the call of the bookstore, shall we?"

Making his way around the table to her, he pulled her chair out. "After you." He placed a hand on the small of her back as they walked through the back door into the bookstore.

She smiled to herself as she leaned into his hand, feeling giddy at the intimate touch. Remarkable how much can change in a couple days, she mused, looking up at Draco; she could not believe how effortless it felt to be with him.

* * *

"Honestly, Hermione, I can't emphasize enough how preposterous this question sounds coming from a Malfoy, but isn't this a bit excessive?" Draco asked, balancing a stack of books in his arms as tall as his head.

"I do recall you said I could buy all the books I want, mister man-of-his-word," Hermione reminded him. "It just so happens that I want all the books."

"But can't we at least cast a Feather-Light Charm so we don't have to lug them around until we get back to your flat?" he complained.

"No pain, no gain, Malfoy," she quipped, shifting her own stack of books from one arm to the other.

A laugh escaped his throat. "Who are you?" he asked, shaking his head fondly at her mantra.

"I thought we established this yesterday, Malfoy, don't tell me you've already forgotten." Hermione stared at him. "I am Hermione Granger."

Draco's face flushed a dark red. "Please never bring that up again; in fact, I think I'll go die now. Yes, that seems to be the only reasonable reaction to this situation."

"Nonsense, if you're dead then you'll miss out on our goodnight kiss." She smiled slyly. "And I have a feeling it's going to be a good one."

**3 weeks later**

"Granger," Draco started, his voice panicked. "I know I told you I would give you anything you want but I was expecting a library, a rare artifact, maybe a holiday abroad, I didn't realize you would want _this_."

Hermione rolled her eyes, scoffing. "Draco, I already told them to be nice, it's not _that bad_ —"

Raising his hand, he cut her off. "N _ot that bad_?! I'm going into the lion's den here, literally."

"Awe, is someone afraid of a couple Gryffindors?" she teased, slipping her arm around his waist and tucking her head against his shoulder.

"It's not _just a couple_ —" he started before the door in front of them swung wide open.

"HERMIONE!" the room exploded, no fewer than a half dozen gingers called out to her in unison.

"Gryffindors…" Draco finished lamely, staring at the crowded room in abject horror.

"My love, welcome to the Burrow." Hermione grinned, taking his arm and dragging him through the open doorway.

"Hermione!" Harry pulled her away from Draco and into a hug, Draco stood awkwardly to the side while an extremely pregnant Ginny took Hermione's attention, rattling on about the baby kicking her ribs.

Draco turned to the wizard next to him. "Hello… _Harry_." He grimaced as if the name left a bad taste in his mouth.

Harry blinked at Draco. "Don't…don't do that."

"Oh, thank Merlin." Draco sighed in relief. "I'm in over my head here, Potter."

Harry snorted, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I'll say, I still can't believe you convinced her to date you."

"I can't believe it either, every day I keep expecting her to snap out of it and leave me."

Harry's eyebrows pushed together. "Wow, I was not expecting that. You've got it bad, mate. I feel for you, it's your first day and she brought you here with all the Weasleys. _No one_ should have to be introduced to all the Weasleys at once, especially when you're dating Hermione. I had enough of a hard time with Ginny and they loved me already."

" _Thank you!_ That's exactly what I told her, and she said I was being dramatic. I am _not_ dramatic." Draco huffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“To be fair, we all saw you with Buckbeak in third year…" Harry trailed off, smirking at Draco.

"With everything I know about you, you really want to start this right now?" Draco questioned, his eyes narrowing.

Thinking for a moment, Harry replied, "Absolutely not, want a Butterbeer?"

Draco lowered his voice, "Have anything stronger?"

Harry glanced over at Ginny and Hermione, then back to Draco. "I have Firewhisky in my bag, I'll get a glass for you—just don't tell the wife. Her bat boogey hex was excellent before she had the pregnancy hormones and I'm pretty sure it's lethal now."

"You're not too bad, Potter."

"The jury's still out on you, Malfoy," Harry quipped, directing him into the kitchen. "But every bloke deserves a bit of Firewhisky courage when they're being introduced to their girlfriend's second family."

**3 months later**

" _If you're going to be utterly useless as a beater then we might as well go back to playing Stichstock! Why even bother with Quidditch?!"_

" ** _Utterly useless?_** _That's hilarious coming from you, did you know the purpose of a Keeper is to stop the other team from scoring? Thought you might've missed that bit from the way you were playing today."_

" _Oy, get hit on the head with too many Bludgers, did you? Let's get back to the game!"_

Hermione watched the scene in front of her, completely bewildered. The Weasleys—plus Harry and Draco—were playing Quidditch on the field behind the Burrow. At least, they were playing between the sporadic yelling matches.

"They all look furious! You're telling me they're actually enjoying this right now?" Hermione asked Ginny, watching as Ron threw down his broom in frustration and stomped off the field.

"Oh yeah, they live for this kind of thing. I don't think I've seen them have so much fun playing since Hogwarts." Ginny smiled broadly, rubbing her swollen belly.

"At this rate, I'll be amazed if they don't kill each other by the end of this game.”

"Just give them a minute, it's almost out of their systems." Ginny gestured to Ron as he walked back to the main group.

Moments later, the players were all laughing and clapping each other on the back, picking up their brooms and starting another round.

"Told you!" Ginny grinned. "Like a timepiece, they're so predictable."

"I will never understand them." Hermione shook her head in amusement, watching her boyfriend blow her a kiss as he flew by the pair.

"This brings me back to Hogwarts days," Ginny reminisced, her gaze lingering just a moment too long at Draco's backside as he flew away from them.

"Ginny Potter!" Hermione chastised with a laugh. "You know, I was skeptical at first, but I've found that I'm quite the Quidditch fan under the right circumstances."

"I still can't believe you got Malfoy to come to the last four Weasley Sundays," Ginny marveled, her eyes darting around the field as she watched the game. "He must really love you."

Hermione smiled, biting her lower lip as Draco tilted his broom handle down, diving after the snitch. "I think he really does."

Draco's face bloomed into a giant grin, he held up the snitch in triumph as his teammates cheered. Hermione's heart swelled watching Charlie, Ron, George, and Bill praise Draco's game-winning catch, clapping him on the back in camaraderie.

"That was obviously just luck!" Harry called after Draco, ribbing him.

"Lucky? More like lucky I'm so talented," Draco argued, turning his broom towards Harry.

"Bullshite, see if I let you come back here again," Harry grumbled under his breath.

"You wish, Potter! Just want me to stay home to make it an easy win, do you?"

"Same time next Sunday?" Harry asked, the corner of his mouth perking into a smile.

Tossing Harry the snitch, Draco grinned. "Next Sunday, it is."

Ginny Potter looked wide-eyed between her husband and Draco Malfoy before whispering to herself. "Shite, are they mates now?"

**5 years later**

Hermione sighed, shuffling through a seemingly endless stack of documents on her Ministry desk. Her office was sparsely decorated, with boxes piled up in the corner. On top of the end table in the corner of the office was a sizeable bouquet of sunflowers, daisies, and chrysanthemums which took up most of the table space.

Chewing on the tip of her quill, reading the same paragraph over again, having difficulty focusing on the material. There was a knock on her open door, she looked up at the sound, seeing Draco Malfoy leaning against her doorframe with his hands in his pockets. His eyes watched her mouth as she took the quill from between her lips and placed it back on her desk.

"Granger," he drawled. "I was in the area and decided to stop by and see if you had the papers for me."

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "The papers? What papers?"

"Yes." He casually glanced over his shoulder as if looking for eavesdroppers. "The papers."

Hermione cleared her throat, raising her voice, "Oh of course, _the papers_. Yes, I have the papers for you if you'd like to come in."

Draco smirked, closing the door behind him with a _click_.

"Silencio," he waved his wand, silencing the room with a flourish.

"So, the papers," she tilted her head up at him, her lips curving into a coy smile. "Let me find those for you."

Standing from her desk, she purposefully turned her back to Draco and bent over slowly as she rummaged through her lower desk drawer.

She heard a sharp inhale behind her, she smirked to herself, perking her arse up towards him.

"I'm having difficulty locating your papers, Malfoy, perhaps they were lost in the reorganization."

A large hand grasped her hip, the other sliding down the curve of her back and squeezing her arse.

"Mr. Malfoy," she gasped, leaning into his touch. "You forget yourself."

"Ms. Granger." His hand slipped up under her skirt, his fingertips drifted up the back of her thigh with a feathery touch. "I can't believe you lost my paperwork. How unprofessional. Whatever will I do with you now?"

Tilting her hips towards his touch, she bit back a moan as his finger drew circles on her inner thigh, inching closer to her center. He pulled away, bunching her skirt up around her waist as she bent over her desk.

Draco caressed the supple skin of her arse, admiring it; he reached around her, rubbing her clit through her knickers. Shifting her hips, she ground herself against his hand, impatient for his touch. With a swift movement, he pulled her knickers down to her knees and she whimpered in response.

“Oh Granger, you are positively soaked.” He bent down, gently parting her thighs.

As he slipped two fingers into her waiting heat, she inhaled a shuddered breath at the delicious stretch from his fingers. He held still, teasing her and she groaned in frustration, rocking her hips back against him. 

“Please,” she urged, thrusting herself against his fingers in a torturously slow rhythm for several moments.

Draco pulled his fingers away, slick from her core, “Hey—” she started to protest before his fingers were replaced with his tongue and she breathed out a sound of surprise. His hands gripped her cheeks as he licked and sucked her swollen clit, her legs shaking from pleasure as she rested her body weight on the desk.

His tongue swirled over her core, spelling M-I-N-E repeatedly as her thighs quivered around him. Hermione’s hands grasped desperately at the desk for anything to stabilize herself, knocking off several books in the process.

The sound of a zipper filled the air and she wiggled her arse, bracing herself in anticipation.

“I will never get tired of watching you come undone,” he murmured, grasping her hips and greedily thrusting up into her in one push.

Keening at the feeling of him inside her, Hermione’s breath hitched in delight; her torso pushed up against the desk in time with his thrusts, the wood creaking under their combined weight.

Pulling her up to a standing position, Draco slipped his hands under her blouse and cupped her breasts, rolling her hardened nipples between his fingers. Hermione arched against his hands, pressing herself against him as he pulled all the way out of her, before pushing back into her fully. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the office, Hermione’s breath came out in short pants as she rotated her hips around Draco.

Draco lowered a hand between her thighs, circling and flicking against her clit.

“Please, don’t stop, I’m so close,” she gasped out, throwing her head back as he stroked her, slamming into her with a frantic pace.

She felt the coil of tension in her snap, her walls clamping tight around him as he rode her through the waves. Her knees buckled, he held her up as his breath caught, he groaned and thrust one final time into her.

For a moment they stood there in silence, panting and leaning against each other. Hermione straightened up, pulling her knickers up and her skirt down. Draco tucked himself back into his trousers with a zip. She turned to face Draco who was flushed, his hair uncharacteristically messy. She leaned in to kiss him, his hands tangling in her curls as he stroked her tongue with his. He pulled away, leaning his forehead against hers.

“I think I can forgive you about losing my papers, it’s just like the Ministry to be so disorganized,” he quipped, dropping a quick kiss on her forehead.

“Oh Draco, whatever would your wife say?” Hermione teased him with raised eyebrows.

He walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her neck. “Who knows what goes on in that head of hers? One thing is for certain, she always has a great deal of opinions.”

Hermione playfully smacked his hand, leaning back into the kisses on her neck with a soft groan.

“Think your assistant knows what we’ve been doing in here?” he asked with a devilish smirk.

“Oh stop, it’s her first day, be nice to her,” Hermione chastised. “She—”

The door to her office opened, her new assistant stumbled to a stop at their intimate embrace; her gaze flicked from the books on the floor, to the desk, and back up to the pair, her eyes wide.

“Oh!” the young woman squealed, throwing the paper she was holding over her eyes. “I am s-s-so sorry Mrs. Malfoy, I didn’t realize Mr. Malfoy was in your office.”

“Mrs. _Granger_ -Malfoy,” Draco corrected with his nose turned up at the stuttering assistant.

“If you want to be technical about it, as of yesterday it’s _Minister_ Granger-Malfoy,” Hermione smiled slyly, reaching for the papers in her assistant’s hands. “But really, Elizabeth, as I’ve already said, you can call me Hermione.”

Elizabeth handed Hermione a stack of papers, nodding and blushing furiously, practically running out of the office.

Turning to Draco, Hermione glared daggers as she asked, “ _You didn’t_ _lock the door_?”

He smirked, adjusting his tie. “I’ll make sure to lock it next time.”

With a roll of her eyes, she straightened a pile of papers that was skewed about. Hermione picked up a name plate that read **_Hermione Granger-Malfoy Deputy Director_** and placed it into a large moving box to the side of her desk.

“I still don’t see why you insist on packing up your own office, love, you have people for that now.”

“I don’t mind doing it the Muggle way. Plus, I happen to have quite a few fond memories of this desk from over the years,” she winked at him, picking up a book that had been tossed onto the floor during their activities. “Remember this one?”

Draco reached for the book, brushing his thumb over the cover. “From our first date,” he shook his head with a smile. “Leave it to my wife to hoard every book she’s ever read. At this rate we will have to buy an extra home just for your books.”

“I thought you were really into swotty,” she quipped, taking the book back and packing it away.

“Still am.” He helped smooth down her wild hair. “You know I’ve always had a thing for powerful, intelligent women.”

“Speaking of, I have a meeting in ten minutes with the Wizengamot but if you stay, we can do a lunch date,” Hermione offered.

“Mathilda’s?” he asked, interlacing his fingers with hers. “You know how fond I am of mediocre tea.”

“Mathilda’s.” She confirmed with a smile, squeezing his hand softly. “So you’ll stay?”

He pretended to think for a moment before raising her knuckles to his mouth for a kiss, repeating his favourite words his wife ever said to him. “I’ll stay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr at curlykay :)


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